The Junk Brothers
by Lakritzwolf
Summary: Flak 'n' Shrapnel. They're back. The most dangerous combination since nitro and glycerine. And they'll never get caught... They're on a mission from Chief.
1. Chapter 1

_So here's me with my first attempt at a crossover story. I've got a thing for Flak and Shrapnel, and I've recently watched Blues Brothers again. My mind being what it is, this is what came out of it... And I'll be merrily ignoring wiki-supplied back-story and game plots and features as it suits me._  
><em>Kudos to any reviewers who spot all the movie quotes I've thrown into this just for shits and giggles.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>The Junk Brothers<strong>

Flak 'n' Shrapnel. They're back. The most dangerous combination since nitro and glycerine. And they'll never get caught... They're on a mission from Chief.

* * *

><p>To say Flak and Shrapnel were surprised when Chief Harkness took them aside one day after closing down their stall for the day would be mildly understated. Especially since the Chief mentioned needing their help. They followed him out of the Marketplace, through the door that led only to a little dead-end corridor on the side of the ship ending in a sheer drop of twenty yards or so above the waterline, a place where eavesdroppers would be very unlikely.<p>

"What is it we can help you with, Chief?", Flak asked after lighting up his smoke.  
>Harkness seemed unsure of how to reply, and his left eyelid twitched as if he had a tic. He finally seemed to have made up his mind and looked first at him, then at Shrapnel. "First of all, I need your word that whatever you hear tonight must remain between the three of us. Absolutely no one else must know this."<br>Shrapnel lifted his eyebrows but nodded. "Of course."  
>"Do I have your word?"<br>The two weapon dealers exchanged a glance.  
>"Yes", Shrapnel said, and Flak added: "Sure thing, Chief."<br>"Good." Harkness' eyelid twitched again. "The thing is, what I got to tell you is probably hard to swallow. I found it unbelievable at first and even though I have proof of it it's still..." He sighed. "Well, no use in beating about the bush."  
>Shrapnel took a pack of cigarettes out of a pocket, pulled one out and put it between his lips while watching Harkness.<p>

"You heard of Zimmer and that escaped android?"  
>Both of them nodded while Shrapnel took out his lighter.<br>"And that the Vault kid sent Zimmer off, making him believe the android was dead?"  
>Shrapnel paused in what he was doing. "Making him believe?"<br>Harkness smiled a little uncomfortably. "Indeed. You see, the android had his memories replaced and underwent facial surgery to escape the slavery of the Commonwealth."  
>"Understandably", Shrapnel said and switched his lighter on.<br>"So anyway, the Vault kid found that out and thought that the android needed his memory back to be able to protect himself. So she found out the activation code and did just that."  
>Flak gave the security chief a long, thoughtful stare. "Is it by chance someone we know, that android?"<br>Harkness smiled thinly at them. "It is by chance someone whom you are talking to right now."

Shrapnel dropped the lighter; it slid along the metal floor, tilted over the edge and vanished despite his best efforts to catch it again. With a muffled curse Shrapnel leaned forward only to hear the faintest splash twenty five yards below as the lighter vanished forever out of his reach. He then slowly turned around, cigarette still unlit, and stared at the security chief again whose left eyelid twitched for the third time.

After rallying himself Flak took a breath and slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke, frowning. "You're the android, Chief?"  
>"Believe it or not."<br>"I must say I tend to 'or not', Chief."  
>Harkness smiled and pointed at the pistol at Flak's belt. "Shoot me."<br>"What?"  
>"Come on. Shoot me. I've got to proof this to you. Shoot me."<br>"I'll do nothing of the sort."  
>"Come on, Flak. If I ain't the android then I deserve it for shitting you. If I am, you won't be able to hurt me."<br>Flak shook his head but hesitatingly unholsterd his gun and aimed it at Harkness' head. "You sure, chief?"  
>Harkness nodded. "Absolutely."<p>

Flak fired. But before he even had time to flinch Harkness had moved, too; and both Flak and Shrapnel stared open-mouthed and dumb-struck at the security chief who was holding a hand in front of his face, the bullet neatly caught between thumb and forefinger.

"Right", Flak said after a minute of staring. "Right." He holstered his gun again and continued smoking with a slightly unsteady hand. "You're the android, then. But what the fuck would you need our help for?"  
>Harkness' eyelid twitched again; it was an unnerving sight, especially when you knew he was a machine. It seemed totally out of place. "I'm suffering from a slight system malfunction", he said then. "Right now it's just a minor circuit module, but my system self diagnosis routine indicates resulting strains on other neural ZS8a,d and m spinal sub-components outside manufacturers specifications that will lead to thermal impairments of low-base beta5 servos...", his eyelid twitched, "...terminating operability." He looked at their blank faces and worded the next sentence very slowly and carefully. "I need a spare part."<br>Flak rallied first and lifted one eyebrow. "You don't find spare android parts lying around in our shop, Chief."  
>Harkness smiled unhappily. "You don't find spare android parts in the whole Capital Wasteland, Flak. And with Pinkerton dead, not that it was a surprise at his age, but still, with him dead, there is no one who could fix the part that is damaged. So someone has to find me a spare part. But the only place to get them is where they came from."<br>"Looks like you're up shit creek then, chief", Flak said.

"Right", Harkness said. "I guess you understand why I can't go there myself. If anyone finds out who and what I am, all they need is to yell a combination of letters and numbers at me to reset my factory settings, and Harkness will be history. That's why I'm asking you."  
>Flak and Shrapnel looked at each other, understanding slowly dawning in their eyes.<br>"Why us, though, Chief?", Shrapnel asked.  
>Harkness blinked in the attempt of suppressing the tic, with no success. "Because I need someone who has not only Wasteland survival experience but also some sort of technical knowledge. And last but not least it's a dangerous mission, and requires abilities to deal with every kind of danger, as well as the ruthlessness to do what's necessary regardless of what."<br>"I see", Flak said slowly. Harkness knew about them, of course. Reformed and forgiven, but now their past seemed to come in handy.

"I don't have anything to offer as a reward, just bear in mind that without me, Rivet City is without a leader and a security Chief. How long do you think Bannon and Seagraves could keep the council running and the defences active and effective?"  
>For the third time the two friends exchanged a glance and while Shrapnel shrugged, Flak nodded and looked at the Chief again. "Right", he said. "You got a deal, Chief."<br>Harkness visibly sagged with relief. "I was hoping I could count on you."  
>"But", Shrapnel fell in. "What do we need? And how do we know it when we see it?"<br>Harkness smiled a little crookedly. "What you need is a 6.6-core-voltage nano-hydraulic circuit servo-module in an A20 casing."  
>This was met by two blank stares out of two frozen faces.<br>"Technically", Harkness ventured, "...technically it's... a thingy."

Flak blinked. Shrapnel tilted his head.

"I'll give you a drawing of one. For now, you have to find out what you need for this trip and how to get it. I'll do what I can to help, but I'd rather this all remains as secret as possible."  
>"Got you, Chief", Flak replied and looked at his friend. "I guess we get down to planning right away. How much time do we have before things go pear-shaped with your... circuit... thingy?"<br>"A couple of weeks at least", the Chief replied.  
>Shrapnel shook his head. "That's not good enough", he said thoughtfully. "We'll never make it into the commonwealth and back again within a couple of weeks. We'd need a vertibird for that."<br>Flak dropped his butt end and ground it out with the sole of his boot. "Any ideas?"  
>"I know vertibirds are impossible", Shrapnel said slowly, tapping his cheek. "But what about..." He looked at Flak again. "What about we find a ground vehicle and get it going again?"<br>Flak crossed his arms. "A car? Want to drive through the whole wasteland in one of them cars? They explode when you sneeze at them, buddy."  
>Shrapnel shook his head. "Not that kind of car, obviously. We need something sturdy, some old military vehicle..."<p>

They shared a thoughtful stare. "Wheaton?", Flak asked.  
>Shrapnel shrugged. "Best bet, I think."<p>

Harkness nodded. "I'll talk to the next caravan coming through. There has to be some sort of solution we can work out with them to find what you need."

The two weapon dealers nodded.

"There's no guarantee we'll get it working again, though, Chief", Shrapnel said then.  
>Harkness shrugged and his eyelid twitched twice. "I know. We have to try though."<br>Flak and Shrapnel nodded again.  
>"I'll have to leave the details to you two", Harkness said then and rubbed his left eye. "I'll help you in any way I can, just keep it discreet." He gave both of them a nod and vanished through the door.<p>

Flak and Shrapnel stared at each other.  
>"We're up to this, man?", Shrapnel finally asked.<br>Flak shrugged. "If we wanna keep on living here we'd best. No use in letting Bannon run the place."  
>"That fruitcake?" Shrapnel snorted in distaste. "No way."<br>"So what do we need first?"  
>Shrapnel looked wistfully at his still un-lit cigarette. "I need a fucking lighter."<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

It sure didn't come as a large surprise that amongst the caravan merchants it was Crazy Wolfgang who was enthralled by the idea of salvaging an old army vehicle from the Wheaton armoury. And him being the man he was – He wasn't called _Crazy_ Wolfgang for nothing, after all – he didn't even ask what Flak and Shrapnel wanted an old army truck for. So, much to the annoyance of Wolfgang's Caravan guard George, they set off a couple of days later, Wolfgang, the guard, the brahmin that Wolfgang called Elsa and Flak and Shrapnel, the latter armed to their teeth, heading northwards through the ruins of DC for the Wheaton armoury.

Harkness stood on the bridge and watched them go, his eyelid twitching as he pressed his lips tightly together. He took up his post again as he watched them disappear behind the rubble, weapon at the ready and analysing the chances of their success. He didn't have enough data input on spare parts, repair skills and the possibilities of there being a salvageable car at all to do an exact calculation, but even with the most optimistic assumptions their chances were below 27.3%.

**{-(-)-}**

The first thing they had to deal with upon reaching the armoury was the motherfucking robots still guarding the place. The second thing was catching Elsa again who had bolted, screaming both her heads off after her flank had been grazed by a laser, and was now nowhere to be seen. They had to follow the trail of junk and other bits and pieces she had been strewing in best Hansel and Gretel fashion and found the poor creature huddled against a broken wall with her eyes wide and almost completely white, frothing at the mouths while swinging her heads back and forth. She stumbled away when Wolfgang tried to walk up to her.  
>"Elsaa", he cooed. "Elsa, darling."<br>Elsa mooed and bolted again.  
>"Get her!" Wolfgang set off after her in a sprint. "Cut her off!"<p>

Fanning out, the other three men tried to encircle the panicked animal who, now completely out of her fucking tree, galloped as fast as she could, strewing plates, cutlery and empty glass bottles all over the place. One of the packs on her back came loose, fell to the ground and burst with a cascade of billiard balls regorging out of the torn fabric. Failing to sidestep them, George stumbled, slipped and skidded in an astonishing display of tap-dancing skills before he finally fell and landed flat on his backside with a stream of very foul and very heartfelt curses.

Wolfgang had, in the meantime, followed Elsa and was trying to get a grip onto her halter while Flak and Shrapnel had sped past her and were yelling and waving their arms to make her turn around so Wolfgang could get close enough.  
>"Stop screaming!", Wolfgang screamed and , even more spooked now, Elsa bellowed and lashed out a kick with her hind legs.<p>

Both Flak and Shrapnel froze on the spot when Wolfgang slowly toppled to his knees, with the only sound escaping him a breathless, tortured wheeze as he slowly doubled over and gingerly pressed both hands onto his crotch. Thus having enforced a hold-up of her pursuers, Elsa took her chance, gathered speed and, rounding a heap of rubble, was out of sight again in an instant.  
>Still wheezing, Wolfgang stumbled onto his feet again. "After her", he gasped out and set off again, slightly baker-legged for the first couple of steps. Flak and Shrapnel followed but refrained from any more shouting.<p>

In the end, Elsa ended her own flight as a strap of her harness got caught in an extending piece of steel armouring from a heap of crumbling ferroconcrete.  
>"Elsa", Wolfgang crooned. "Elsa baby. Come here, don't be afraid. It's just your dear uncle Wolfgang. Me, Wolfie, you see?"<br>Elsa snorted and tore at her harness. A glass pitcher slipped out of a pack, shattering between her feet and Elsa, panicked but caught, kicked out again. Wolfgang in turn was fast enough this time and evaded the blow. He slowly walked around Elsa and finally got a grip on her halter.  
>"Good girl", he muttered. "Poor little Elsiebaby."<br>Elsa snorted again while throwing back her other head.

With a mildly disgusted expression Wolfgang wiped Elsa's snot from his face with his other hand. "Come on, Elsie. We've got work to do, darling." With these words he leaned over, freed her harness and then reached into one of his pockets from which he produced a mutfruit. Elsa greedily extended one of her heads and slobbered the slightly shrivelled fruit out of his hand. "Come on, baby." He tugged at the halter and Elsa followed him; hesitatingly, but she followed him. Wolfgang clicked his tongue. "Come on."

Flak lit a cigarette and exchanged a glance with his friend. Both couldn't help but wonder about the exact relationship between Wolfgang and his brahmin while listening to him talk to her. It was a little disturbing and neither of the two felt like going into any more detail, not even imaginary.  
>George had caught up with them by now too, and together they picked their way back through the ruins towards the entrance of the armoury.<p>

While Wolfgang now looked at Elsa's wound and checked if she had hurt herself any more in her panicked flight, fussing about the creature like a mother hen, George lit a smoke with his back against a wall and Flak and Shrapnel began their search for a vehicle in still good enough a shape for it to be repairable.  
>All they found, however, were wrecks.<p>

"I think we've come here in vain, buddy", Flak said slowly after several hours of fruitless searching.  
>Shrapnel took a cigarette out of his pocket and clamped it between his lips. Producing a packet of matches he struck one which went out instantly. He struck another that met the same fate. "Fucksticks". He struck a third one, and it caught. Heftily puffing his cheeks while shielding the small flame from the wind with his other hand he managed to light up his smoke just before he burned his fingertips. Then he looked around. "There's gotta be something out here, man."<br>Flak shrugged and, smoking with a thoughtful frown, Shrapnel walked past the gate and around a corner, staring at a ramp that led downwards but was blocked by a large heap of rubble and bricks. He puffed his cheeks, exhaled the smoke and then crawled over the rubble and down the ramp.

"You find something, buddy?", Flak called as he followed him and watched Shrapnel pull a few bricks out of the heap at the bottom of the ramp.  
>"I think so", was the slow reply.<br>Flak scrambled down over the rubble as well and looked at what his friend had found. At the wall, half hidden by the rubble of the collapsed walls from the top storeys of the building was a scratched and battered, old, rusty metal sign saying: "ALL TER IN VEHI S".  
>They looked at each other.<br>"All terrain vehicles?" Flak chewed on his cigarette.  
>"I bet you", Shrapnel replied. "Get the others, we need to move that shit."<br>"How sure are you that the garage isn't empty?"  
>Shrapnel shrugged with an unhappy grin. "We can only hope, buddy."<p>

Spitting out his butt end Flak shook his head with a sigh and climbed up the ramp again while behind him Shrapnel rolled up his sleeves and began to tear bricks out of the rubble.

It was after dark when the four men, drenched in sweat and with chapped, nicked and bleeding hands, had to call it a day. The rubble heap was decidedly smaller, but all four of them were absolutely knackered and they had a serious argument as to who should be keeping first watch. In the end they drew matches and Shrapnel lost.

After destroying four matches without managing to light up his next smoke he asked Flak to lend him his lighter for the night.  
>"Don't drop it into any hole or something", Flak said as he handed it over.<br>Shrapnel's only reply was an angry snort as he settled down on the top of a rubble heap with his rifle across his knees. He lit his smoke, puffed a few clouds and stared into the darkness as Flak settled down onto his bedroll, watching his friend who emanated foul mood from every pore. After a few moments he got up again with a shake of his head and a small sigh.

Shrapnel gave him a mildly confused look as Flak settled down beside him.  
>Flak shrugged. "Easier to stay awake on a shared watch", he said in a low voice and held out his hand for the lighter. Shrapnel handed it over with a small, crooked smile and when Flak had lit his own cigarette the two friends settled down, leaning against each other back to back while smoking silently, listening to the silence in the ruins around them and Wolfgang's bestial snore.<p>

**{-(-)-}**

They were up again with sunrise. With muscles still aching from the day before they dug into the rubble again, throwing stones, dragging steel armouring and shovelling grit like madmen trying to dig their way out of hell. In the end it was after midday when the four men, covered in sweat, dust and grime, had finally uncovered a large rolling shutter gate.

"How do we open it?", Wolfgang asked, still slightly out of breath.  
>Flak knocked a few times on the gate, then banked his fist against it. A shower of dust and crumbs of rust rained down on him and with a frown, Flak extended the butt of his SMG and rammed it against the shutters with a hollow, crashing sound, leaving a dent in the old, decayed material. Narrowing his eyes he repeated this, deepening the dent, and with the third try he managed to punch a hole into the gate. He lowered his head and peeked in.<br>"See anything, buddy?", Shrapnel asked with a trace of anxiety in his voice.  
>"Nope. It's darker than the inside of the crack of my arse in there."<p>

Flak stood back and rubbed his chin while staring thoughtfully at the gate. Then his face lit up.

"Wolfgang?"  
>"Yup?"<br>"Got any rope?"  
>"Shitloads."<br>"Good. Got a lead pipe?"  
>"Whaddya need a fucking lead pipe for?"<br>"Same I need the rope for, twit. Got one?"  
>"Dunno. Have to have a look."<p>

Wolfgang didn't have a lead pipe, but after combing through the collapsed buildings around them and some serious tearing and dragging he and Flak were able to salvage some piping that would do the job. Flak tied the rope around the pipe with several knots and the slipped the pipe through the hole in the gate. After a tug on the rope, the pipe canted across the hole.

Wolfgang started to grin. "Nifty."  
>Flak gave him a crooked smile. "Don't count the chickens before they've hatched. The question is what will give first? The gate or the rope?"<br>Wolfgang frowned. "I guess we have to try it. Elsa!" He whistled through his teeth. "Elsa. Here!"  
>The brahmin slowly came trotting over, her ordeal from the day before quite obviously forgotten.<br>"Good girl. Over here."  
>With a low moo the brahmin head-butted Wolfgang in the back who stumbled a step forward with a chuckle. "Silly thing. Now come here." He took her halter and led her down the ramp where he tied the rope to her harness. Flak and Shrapnel walked up the ramp first, stepping aside to be out of the way and with anxious faces they watched as Wolfgang led Elsa back up the ramp. The brahmin snorted when the rope tensed, but Wolfgang coaxed her on. "Come on, baby."<p>

Digging her hoofs into the rubble Elsa followed the tug on her halter and snorted. Behind and below her, the gate began to groan and creak. "Come on Elsa, good girl!"  
>Elsa snorted again and emitted a low moo as the groaning of metal turned into a metallic screech.<br>"Good girl!"  
>The brahmin took another step and the metal finally gave. With an ear battering crash the gate tore out of its hinges on one side before it shattered into pieces.<br>"Fuck yeah!", Wolfgang screeched before placing a kiss on Elsa's nose. Flak and Shrapnel choose to ignore this and hurried down the ramp.

Kicking metal shards aside they cautiously walked into the cool darkness of the sub-basement. After sniffing the air Flak then switched his lighter on when they were a few steps further in.  
>"Jesus..." Shrapnel choked out. "Look at that!"<p>

In the dim shaft of light falling through the gate they saw it. Protected from radiation, war, bombs and even ageing it stood there in its forgotten shelter, covered in a blanket of dust but almost unblemished, with even the tires still intact.

"What is that, buddy?" Flak walked slowly around it as Shrapnel touched the driver's door.  
>"That...", he said with a slightly awestruck voice, "... is a Chevrolet Pickup Rat Rod."<br>"A Chevvie?"  
>The two exchanged a grin.<br>"Looks in pretty good shape to me", Flak added after a while.  
>"It does. Let's hope for the best." Shrapnel then opened the door and climbed in, falling into the driver's seat and taking a hold of the wheel with a manic grin.<br>"Say buddy", Flak said after watching him. "Do you know how the fuck to drive one of them things?"

Shrapnel's grin died out very slowly.


	3. Chapter 3

Theoretically Elsa should have been able to pull the pickup once it got rolling, but no matter how she pulled and the men pushed, the fucking thing didn't move.  
>Wiping his brow Shrapnel stood back at least and said: "This is no fucking good. We're overlooking something here." With these words he went down onto his knees and bent over to look at the pickup's underside. Grumbling he lowered himself even further down and slid below it to prod and pull a few cables and pipes. The others watched him, swearing under his breath with only his feet visible, while lighting up their smokes or, in Wolfgang's case, scratching Elsa's ears.<p>

"Flak?", came Shrapnel's voice from under the truck.  
>"What."<br>"Get into the cabin and pull a few levers, or tread the pedals."  
>"You sure? You're lying under the fucking thing."<br>"I know." A snort. "I don't know what else to do."  
>Flak shrugged and clambered up into the driver's seat. He trod a couple of times on each pedal. "Anything?"<br>"Nope!" With a muffled curse Shrapnel shifted around under the truck. "Wait a minute."  
>Flak waited.<br>"Is there a kind of lever or something?"  
>"Here's one with a couple of numbers on it." Flak looked around. "And one with a button at the end."<br>"Try the one with the button."  
>"It's stuck."<br>"Fuck."

Flak looked at the lever again and narrowed his eyes. He then cautiously pressed the button at the end, and the lever loosened. He pushed it down.

"What are you doing?"  
>"The lever with the button moved, after all."<br>"Yeah." Shrapnel shoved himself out from under the truck again. "I think you found the brake, man."  
>Flak looked down and back through the window at him. "I did?"<br>"Wolfgang", Shrapnel said. "Give it another go."  
>"Got you!"<p>

Flak had indeed found the brake. With combined efforts they managed to shove and push and drag the truck up the ramp.

"I really hope this is all worth the effort", Flak said while wiping his brow.  
>Shrapnel walked around the truck again and banked on the engine bonnet. "We'll make it worth it, buddy."<br>"You're the fucking wrench man, buddy. I don't know shit about this."  
>"Oh come on." Shrapnel elbowed him in the side. "You can take a rifle apart in fifteen seconds."<br>"Yeah. And you can put it back together again in ten."  
>They shared a grin and Flak offered his friend first a smoke from his pack, then his lighter. Smoking in thoughtful silence they stared at the truck while Wolfgang fiddled around with the ropes, trying to improve the harness so Elsa could pull the truck with less effort.<br>"Right", he said after a while. "Let's get this baby on the road!"

Before they set off they threw a few of the spare tires that had been standing stacked in a corner of the garage onto the pickup before undertaking the long haul back to Rivet City.

**{-(-)-}**

While they had managed to eliminate several nests of raiders on the way up north and those were no longer a threat on their way back, the mutants swarming the ruins of DC were still as present as ever. During the first shootout a bullet hit the truck, leaving a dent in the door before ricocheting off.  
>"Stop that!", Shrapnel yelled. Another stray bullet hit the truck in a spray of sparks and pieces of paint. "You green assholes!", he screamed. "Stop blowing holes in my truck!"<br>Flak pulled the safety pin out of a grenade, staring with narrowed eyes at the last mutant who was armed with no less than a minigun. "One..." His lips clamped down onto the cigarette. "Two..." He threw the grenade in a wide arc, watching its trajectory with a satisfied nod. "Three." The grenade exploded an inch above the mutant's head.  
>"Good shot, buddy!" Shrapnel called over and Flak flashed him a grin before reloading his gun. The one with the minigun had been the last one, of this flock at least, and while Shrapnel now fussed over the truck as anxiously as Wolfgang had fussed over the brahmin the other day, Flak and George made sure the coast was clear, at least for the moment.<p>

When they finally reached Rivet City with the next sunrise it took about half an hour before almost every inhabitant was out on the bridge, quite a few even coming down the stairs to fan out in a half circle around the truck like a heap of iron filings around a lodestone.

"Gee, what is this?"  
>"Is it still going?"<br>"What are you doing with it?"  
>"Are you going to repair it?"<br>"Where are you off to?"  
>"How does it work?"<p>

Lips clamped firmly around his smoke Shrapnel shooed the bolder ones of the spectators away, already displaying the protective air of proud ownership. "Get outta the way, folks. Yeah, I'm gonna repair it. Try to, at least. No clue if I get this going again, but I will certainly try." He gave the truck a thoughtful stare when a voice piped up behind him.  
>"It looks so new."<br>Shrapnel turned around and looked at little C.J. Young.  
>"It's been sitting in an underground garage, missie."<br>C.J. frowned. "All the time? Since the war?"  
>"I would say so." He looked at the truck again.<br>"And do you know how to drive it?"  
>Shrapnel suppressed the urge to snap at the girl for having asked the same question that Flak had two days ago. "Not yet. I'm gonna find out."<br>"Couldn't you ask someone?"  
>With a sigh of barely suppressed exasperation Shrapnel turned around again to look down at the little girl in her pretty green dress. "And whom could I ask about that? It's pre-war. Who would know anything about these pre-war things? It's not as if..." he broke off, stared at C.J with a perplexed and thoughtful frown before closing his mouth and patting her head. "Flak."<br>Flak flicked away his butt end and the two exchanged a glance.  
>"Underworld", Flak said after a moment of silence.<br>Shrapnel nodded. "Tell you what", he said. "I start repairing that thing, and you try to find someone."  
>Flak returned the nod. "Sounds like a plan, man."<br>"Watch it for me, will you", Shrapnel then said and with that, he set off to gather his tools.

Flak was still standing beside the truck with his SMG unholstered when he came back, loaded with two toolboxes and a bucket filled with rags and pieces of cloth.  
>"Now get outta the way, folks", he said to the crowd. "I need to get working."<br>Finally, with Harkness telling the people to go about their business the crowd dispersed. He then took Flak aside while Shrapnel opened the bonnet and stared at the engine with a frown.  
>"Flak", the security chief said when they were out of earshot of the last bystanders. "You need more information about your destination, now that there is a chance of you reaching it."<br>Flak lit another smoke. "I'm all ears, chief."

**{-(-)-}**

Having left Shrapnel with his truck, and with his last sight of him only his legs dangling out of the engine bay, Flak set off for Underworld with a deep unease. Not because of the ghouls, although he would easily enough admit that those gave him the willies, but due to what Harkness had told him about their destination.  
>Technology that was beyond his comprehension. Androids. Security Systems. Defences. And he had realised that getting the truck running and reaching their destination was the smallest of their problems. Their chances were slim enough, and the more he cudgelled his brain, the less he could believe their venture could turn out to be anything but a disaster.<p>

Weighed down by these unpleasant thoughts he reached Underworld a couple of hours later after managing to avoid everything bar a few feral ghouls in the metro tunnels; and after emerging into the light again he pointedly ignored the sentry taking her rounds in front of the museum while having another hasty smoke. Better get going. He had nothing against ghouls, but they freaked him the fuck out. Just get it over with. He entered the door and stepped into the dark and musty-smelling halls of the museum of history.

"Well lookie here", he was greeted upon entering the gates of Underworld. "We got us a smoothskin visitor."  
>Flak lit another smoke to cover his unease. "Yeah, obviously." Then he forced himself to look at the ghoul before him. He was wearing a blue work coverall.<br>"What is your business in underworld, smoothskin?", he asked.  
>"I need some practical help", Flak said after a deep breath. "About a pre-war thing."<br>The ghoul crossed his arms. "Is that so."  
>With a shrug, Flak extended his pack of smokes at him. The ghoul looked at it, and with a lopsided grin that did terrible things to his already fucked-up face he took one. Flak offered him fire too, and the ghoul took it with a nod of thanks. "Name's Winthrop, by the way."<br>"Flak."  
>Winthrop lifted what used to be his eyebrows but didn't comment further on the name.<p>

"What brings you here then", he asked after a few minutes of silently enjoying a smoke.  
>"As I said", Flak replied. "It's a pre-war thing."<br>"Maybe if you'd supply me with a bit more detail, I'd be able to help", Winthrop gave back.  
>Flak gave him a long, considering stare. "Do you remember how to drive a car?"<br>The ghoul dropped the cigarette, then blinked and stared at Flak like an idiot a before bending down and picking up the smoke again. "You got one that still works?"  
>Flak weighed his head. "Found one that was in a pretty good shape, considering. Hope to get it working again."<br>"I see."

They continued smoking in silence for another while.

"Why should I help you smoothskin?", Winthrop finally asked.  
>Flak shrugged. "Fuck if I know." Winthrop flashed him a grin at that before he went on: "I don't know what I could offer for payment. You tell me."<br>Winthrop nodded. "I'll think about it."  
>"Don't get me wrong", Flak said to this. "But we're kind of in a hurry."<br>Winthrop crossed his arms very slowly. "Indeed."  
>Flak returned the stare without blinking.<p>

Finally, the ghoul chuckled. "I'll tell you what. I'll come along, and if we get the baby purring again, I'll get to drive her on the maiden trip."  
>Trying not to show his relief all too visibly Flak nodded and forced himself to extended a hand. The ghoul looked at it, then at his unmoving face, and with a small smirk he took Flak's hand and shook it firmly.<br>"Right", Winthrop said then, noticing that Flak didn't wipe his hands on his trousers after that. "Let me pack up a few things." Then he narrowed his eyes, because he noticed at that moment that Flak stared past him with a face as if he'd seen a ghost and was trying not to show it. "You all right, smoothskin?"  
>Flak blinked a couple of times, unable to speak.<p>

Behind Winthrop, coming out of a room adjacent to the main corridor, Flak had seen a ghoul that had a strangely familiar air about him. Her. Fuck, this was impossible. Wasn't it?  
>And suddenly, as if the ghoul had noticed him stare at her, she turned her head and looked at him. Flak stiffened. She stiffened. Narrowing her eyes she slowly rested her fists on her hips and walked over.<p>

"Will you look at that", she said upon reaching him. "Can I believe my sore and rotting eyes? Is that really Frank O'Hara?"  
>Flak felt like squirming under her stare and forced himself to remain calm. Winthrop in turn watched the scene unfolding before him with a very amused smirk.<br>"But then, if I couldn't believe my own eyes, whose eyes could I believe? That I'd live to see the day." Then she grinned, but it wasn't a particularly happy or friendly grin.  
>"Tulip?", Flak finally blurted out.<br>Tulip crossed her arms and shook her head. "Yeah, nice to see you too, Flak."

The two of them stared at each other for a while until Winthrop broke the spell. "Sorry to interrupt the happy family reunion. You two know each other?"  
>Flak lit another cigarette, forcing his hands to remain still, not completely successful.<br>Tulip gave Winthrop a small, slightly melancholy smile. "Ghosts from the past, Winthrop. Used to hang around with him and a few other guys before they threw me out. Long time ago."

At that moment it hit Flak like a club in the back of his head. The solution to all their problems. The one answer to the real question of 'how the fuck are we going to survive this?' He suddenly saw what they needed to do, as clearly as if a ray of light was shining into a long forgotten corner in the attic of his brain, illuminating a picture that contained the answer to everything.

"Tulip", he said after a few moments of rallying himself. Tulip in turn watched him with interest as she had seen his facial expression. "How's Fred?"  
>She chuckled. "Bored to tears", she gave back. "Same as me, I guess."<br>Flak offered her a smoke, too, realising as he did so that this was his last one. He crumpled the empty pack into a ball in his hand after Tulip had taken it and offered her his lighter.  
>"Fancy getting on the road again, Big Chick?"<p>

Tulip exhaled slowly and lifted one hairless brow ridge. "Look at me, Flak. Remember what happened?"  
>"I remember what happened", Flak said without avoiding her eyes. "Think we can put that behind us?"<br>"Why are you here?" Tulip smiled a thin-lipped smile.  
>"I'm here 'cause me and my buddy are on a mission and need all the help we can get."<br>"Your buddy?"  
>"Remember Shrapnel?"<br>"As if anyone could forget that asshole."

Flak suppressed a chuckle. "Anyway. As I said, we need all the help we can get. Fancy tagging along? Give Fred a bit of fresh air?"  
>"After all those years?" Tulip exhaled a cloud of smoke with a chuckle. "He's as rusty as I am, I guess."<br>"Think I'm any better off?"  
>This time, she laughed, a harsh, grating sound with her ruined voice box but still somehow recognisable to him, even after that long a time.<br>"I guess you got me there, Frank. Let me get my sweetie and I'll meet you here in a bit."  
>"Great. I'll give you more details on the way." Flak snubbed out his butt end with his boot. "And Tulip?"<br>Tulip turned around again.  
>"Do me a favour, will you?"<br>Her brow ridge quirked up.  
>"Don't call me Frank."<br>She chuckled. "Got you, Flak."


	4. Chapter 4

Some things have to happen the way they happen, it's the dynamics of events that no mortal man can change. So when Flak, Winthrop and Tulip approached Rivet City and the van under whose open bonnet Shrapnel's legs were dangling out and Winthrop stepped beside him, leaned forward and asked: "How's she coming along?", Shrapnel, who had been oblivious of their arrival, shot upright and smacked his head against the bonnet with a sickening crunch. "Ah shit..." he staggered a step back, pressing a hand against the back of his head, and blinked at the ghoul before him who mustered him with a smirk.  
>"Winthrop's the name."<br>After a few seconds of rallying himself, Shrapnel stopped blinking and took in the apparition before him, an old, weathered, leathery ghoul wearing a jumpsuit with a rag peeking out of one pocket and a wrench out of another. "Shrapnel. Not too bad, methinks."  
>"Mind if I have a look?"<br>Making an inviting gesture towards the van Shrapnel took a step aside and Winthrop took a step forward to lean over the engine.

Shrapnel turned towards Flak and only now registered that he had another ghoul in tow, and a she-ghoul to boot. "Buddy?"  
>Flak spat out a butt end and ground it under the heel of his boot. "Shrap. I found the solution."<br>Shrapnel rubbed the back of his head again. "Solution for what?"  
>"How to make it there and back again in one piece, buddy."<br>Shrapnel still wasn't with him and blinked again, looked at the she-ghoul and back at Flak. "Her?"  
>Flak chuckled. "Amongst others."<br>"Who is that chick?"  
>The ghoul took a step forward and only now did Shrapnel realise that she had a missile launcher draped over one shoulder, a missile launcher onto which someone had written 'FRED' in big, red letters. And slowly, very slowly, he began to realise that she looked somewhat familiar, missing nose and flaking skin notwithstanding. He very slowly looked at Flak again who gave him a very strange, crooked smile.<br>"Flak...?"  
>"What."<br>"Is that..."  
>"Yup."<br>Shrapnel looked at the ghoul again. "Tulip...?"  
>Tulip slid the missile launcher down, set it onto the ground beside her foot and rested her other hand on her hip. "Hello. Been a while."<br>"Uhm." Shrapnel rubbed the back of his head again and could already feel a vicious bump growing there. "What... what... the fuck...?"  
>"Shrapnel", Flak now said, stepping beside his friend. "This is the solution. Not her, not alone at least. You see..." He took Shrapnel's arm. "We got to get the gang back together."<p>

Shrapnel tore his arm away and took a step back. "What?"  
>"You heard me. We got to get the gang back together. We'll never make it alone. But with all of us..."<br>"What the fuck, man." Shrapnel crossed his arms. "It's been how many years? You can bet your sweet arse that not even half of us are still alive by now."  
>"No way but to find that out, is there?" Flak said urgently. "We need to find out, man. And Tulip here I found by sheer chance in Underworld. There have to be some of the others left. Think, buddy. We need all the help we can get here."<br>"Of course." Shrapnel rubbed his chin. "But how the fuck do we find them? If you've got no clue where to look, buddy, then I'm afraid it's gonna be tough luck."  
>Flak grinned and patted his pockets. "Got any smokes?"<p>

Shrapnel frowned but rummaged through his pockets before producing a pack. Flak took two, propped one between his lips and offered Tulip the second one. Shrapnel followed their lead and when they had lit their smokes, Flak looked at Tulip.

She slowly exhaled a cloud. "I heard Silvertongue the old snake opened a bar in Megaton under his given name."  
>"What?" Shrapnel looked back and forth between the two. "He's... he's working?"<br>Tulip snorted. "Apparently he's got a slave to work the bar and a whore to keep the customers happy. But it still sounds pretty farfetched, I admit."

They smoked for a while in silence, listening to Winthrop rummaging around in the engine compartment.

"Think it'll work?", Shrapnel asked after a while. "Not the car, I mean. Getting the gang back together."  
>Flak shrugged. "Fuck if I know. But it's our best bet."<p>

Another silence followed these words. Finally Shrapnel addressed Tulip. "Flak told you what this is all about?"  
>"Yeah." Tulip looked at her smoke for a while. "A crazy suicide mission into what's called the Commonwealth up north to find some crazy stuff that someone will pay really good caps for here in Rivet City."<br>"Pay?" Shrapnel asked and, upon seeing the mortified expression on Flak's face for a second, swallowed his surprise and clamped his lips around his smoke. "Yeah, hell of a pay, too." He eyeballed Flak who was engrossed in his smoke.  
>Tulip in turn wasn't stupid and looked back and forth between the two and back again at Flak. "You louse."<br>Shrapnel couldn't suppress a snort, but even as Flak was about to open his mouth, Tulip broke out into a gravelly laugh. "Bastard! Serves me right, too." She chuckled. "But to be honest F... Flak, I came with you for the fun of it. Couldn't stand it anymore in that murky hole of a shop."  
>Flak puffed his cheek and crossed his arms and Tulip narrowed her eyes. "There's one thing, though."<br>Lifting his eyebrows, Flak blew out a small cloud.  
>"You fucking owe me one, for the info on the snake and for dumping me in the ditch back when I discovered I'd got the rads."<br>Flak pursed his lips around his cigarette and tilted his head. "And what are you thinking of?"  
>Tulip looked at her smoke and snipped the butt end away. "I was thinking about you giving me a mouth job."<br>Shrapnel staggered a step back, unsure if he should guffaw or throw up, and the expression on Flak's face, with the smoke slowly losing its hold and toppling out of his mouth, suggested he was feeling the same.  
>Tulip, however, broke out into a hoarse, screeching laugh that sounded like a buzzard in a tin can upon seeing their facial expressions. With a chortle she bent down and picked up Flak's smoke. "I was just shitting you. Keep your pants on." With that, she put the smoke to her lips and shouldered her missile launcher again before walking over to a cluster of debris and settling down onto it, draping the weapon across her knees.<p>

Flak and Shrapnel exchanged a slightly white-faced, nervous glance. That was Tulip, all right, dry as a fart and twice as nasty. Apart from her appearance, she hadn't changed a single, fucking bit.

Behind them, another amused chuckle sounded out and the two of them slowly turned around to see Winthrop wiping his hands on his rag. "Haven't seen her that happy in years", he said with a smirk. "Anyway. The baby over there's as good as new. All we need is a couple fission batteries, and she's ready to go."  
>Shrapnel grinned in relief at having a distraction from the effects of Tulip's nasty joke. "Great. Can you teach me how to drive it?"<br>"Sure thing. It ain't rocket science, boy."  
>Shrapnel rubbed his hands together in glee.<p>

**{-(-)-}**

For the rest of the day you could see Shrapnel and Winthrop leaning over the engine together with the old ghoul explaining and tinkering while Shrapnel absorbed everything he was told like a sponge. When Winthrop finally declared that this was as good as it could get they leaned back and Shrapnel closed the bonnet with a thud.  
>Brimming with expectation he then sat down in the passenger's seat while the ghoul took his place behind the wheel.<p>

"Look here, boy", he said. "Clutch. Brake. Accelerator."  
>Shrapnel nodded. "<br>"Gears. One, two three four, five, and backwards. Start with first gear." He shifted the gear lever. "Clutch. Ignition."  
>They exchanged a long, excited glance. "Well, here it goes."<br>Winthrop turned the key and the engine coughed. "Come on, baby." He tried again, and still nothing more happened. "Fuck. Come on, baby, you can do it. I know you can do it." He turned the key a third time and after a few spluttering coughs, the engine suddenly sprung to live and hummed. "Yeah!"  
>Shrapnel grinned like a boy. "Yeah. We did it, man, we did it!"<br>They high-fived and Winthrop let out a hoarse laugh before gripping the wheel with both hands. "Now let's see what she's made of."

Flak and Tulip were sitting on a pile of debris watching the van slowly pick up speed and cruise around a corner towards Anacostia. Winthrop backed up, turned the car and drove a wide circle before coming to halt at the foot of the stairs again. The engine stopped, and the doors opened. Out came two figures grinning like madmen. "Works fine", Winthrop declared before opening the bonnet again to check on the engine. "Everything looks all right."  
>He and Shrapnel jumped into the car again, with Winthrop still at the wheel, and Flak and Tulip watched the van vanish past Anacostia down at the riverside.<p>

They waited for ten minutes, fifteen, twenty. They waited for half an hour.  
>Tulip fiddled around with the trigger of her missile launcher. "The fuck is it taking them so long?"<br>Flak crossed his arms. "Fuck if I know."

Another ten minutes passed before they could suddenly hear the engine again and within seconds, the Pickup came haring around the corner with howling tyres, kicking up clouds of dust behind it as it came to halt with screeching brakes. The passenger's door opened and Winthrop came out with a grin plastered so firmly onto his face as if it was glued there.  
>The other door opened and Shrapnel jumped out, his face split in half by the idiotic grin he was cracking.<p>

"Boy's a natural!", Winthrop called out. "Figured it out in no time!"  
>"That's what I was afraid of", Flak muttered into his moustache.<p>

**{-(-)-}**

The power generator had been Flak's idea, and Harkness had been happy to help spread the rumour. So by now, all of Rivet City thought it was the ship's generators and not its security chief that was about to go and needed spare parts and that was why Flak and Shrapnel were setting out in a van towards god knows where. The whole of Rivet City was assembled when the two were ready to go, supplies and spare fission batteries in the back of the van, two benches screwed firmly onto the bed.

They were just about to set off when Bannon came hurrying over with something small clutched in his hands.  
>"Here", he said upon reaching them, holding out his hands. "Driving that thing around in the Wasteland is something else than walking with your face in the sun. I gather you'll need those."<br>Fucking snob. Of course, he had to make a show and be seen as the Generous Proprietor doing all he could to help even if he didn't know fuck. Despite this, Flak and Shrapnel craned their heads to look at what he was offering: two pairs of shades. They exchanged a look and shrugged. Whatever his intentions, Bannon was right.  
>"Thanks", Flak said and, taking the shades, offered Shrapnel one. They slipped them on, waved one last time at the gathered crowd at the base of the stairs and boarded the van. Tulip was already sitting on one of the benches with a smoke clamped between her lips.<p>

"Let's see what you've learned", Flak said and Shrapnel flashed him a cocky grin before starting the van. And because he couldn't resist showing himself off a little he played with the accelerator, making the car roar in anticipation a few times with deep, thrumming howls before loosening the handbrake and setting off, again with screeching tyres and a huge cloud of dust, just for the fun of it.

Behind them, Tulip whooped in delight, the remnants of her hair flying madly in the head wind. "Hell yeah! Whooohooo!"  
>Flak and Shrapnel exchanged a grin and with his lips clamped firmly around his smoke, Shrapnel shifted up a gear and balled the jack. The engine howled and the van sped around a corner as Shrapnel tore at the wheel with a chuckle. "Yeah, baby. Next stop, Megaton!"<br>"Look out!" Flak almost ducked, but they had already sped past the three raiders that had tried to block their way with extended rifles. They scattered with screeches and shouts like spooked chickens and when they picked themselves up, spitting out dust and grit, all they could do was watch the Pickup vanish over a rise with a hand hanging loosely out of the driver's window, giving them the finger.


	5. Chapter 5

Tulip was grinning like a fiend from hell when she hopped down from the bed after they had reached Megaton. "Hell man, I surely would've missed one hell of a trip if I hadn't run into you guys", she chuckled.  
>Shrapnel passed a packet of smokes around and after lighting them up, the three of them made their way towards the gates.<p>

Upon entering the saloon none of the patrons gave them much notice. A man wearing a black leather vest leant on the counter, he looked up at them and back at his drink. A second later he jumped from his chair and knocked his glass over. The barkeeper deftly caught it and hastily mopped the spilled whiskey up with a rag while the owner of the establishment stared at the three newcomers as if he'd seen a ghost. Or three ghosts, for that matter.

Flak gave him a nod and Shrapnel a friendly grin. Well, sort of friendly. It certainly showed a lot of teeth.  
>"Moriarty, you old bastard", Flak said brightly. "Nice to see you again and all."<br>Moriarty in turn stared back and forth between him and Shrapnel for a couple of times until he found his speech again. "The fuck are you guys doing in my saloon?"  
>"Having a drink?" Shrapnel waved the bartender over. "Four shots of scotch."<br>"Coming right up", the bartender rasped and, with a cautious glance at Tulip who completely ignored him, filled up the glasses and handed them over.  
>"Don't you think you'll get this on the house for good old time's sake", Moriarty said with crossed arms. "I've got a business to run."<p>

Flak and Shrapnel sat down at a table and Tulip followed suit, leaning Fred against the wall beside her chair. Moriarty sat down with them and eyeballed them warily. His lips didn't touch the glass, however and Flak didn't fail to notice that.  
>"See", he said. "We thought you'd might want to get on the road again, too. Just for old time's sake."<br>Moriarty crossed his arms again. "Fuck off. You're outta your fucking mind."  
>Flak went on unabashed. "We're getting the gang back together."<br>Moriarty stared at him like a dumbstruck idiot for a moment before he broke out into an unpleasant, cackling laugh. "The gang", he chortled. "Jesus Christ in a fucking bottle." He shook his head and his face slowly grew serious again. "Honestly", he said in what was almost a snarl. "Do what you want, but count me out."  
>"But we need you", Shrapnel fell in. "We're on a mission."<br>"A what?"  
>"A mission. A mission from the Chief. And we're getting the gang back together. We already found Tulip. We need your tongue, man. Think! Adventure, caps, loads of people to beguile..."<br>Moriarty snorted. "I've put that behind me, and you should do that, too, lads. If I was you..."  
>Flak lifted the glass to his lips and had a cautious sip. "If I was you...?" He asked probingly, his eyes boring into Moriarty's. Moriarty lifted his glass, but froze with it halfway to his lips. The look in Flak's eyes had gone a little dark, and a tiny trace of amusement played around the corners of his mouth. "What kind of booze is this anyway?", Flak said after a moment and gave his glass a thoughtful stare. "It kinda tastes of piss."<p>

Three or four patrons snapped their heads around to stare at them with narrowed eyes and the bartender noticed these looks and withdrew himself slowly and unobtrusively into a corner. Tulip in turn had noticed that and glared at Moriarty who was glaring daggers at Flak and Shrapnel.

Shrapnel sniffed at his glass and wrinkled his nose. "Smells a bit... strange, now that you mentioned it, buddy."  
>"Will you shut the fuck up", Moriarty hissed.<br>"What?" Flak leaned back in his chair, a tiny, savoury, crooked grin on his face. "Surely the owner of such an established business like Moriarty's Saloon can keep his still clean?" He leaned forward again. "Or is it the detergents that are the problem?"  
>"Or maybe he's already fucked up the mash", Shrapnel said in a pleasant, conversational tone.<br>The patron at the adjacent table put his glass down and left.  
>"Shut the fuck up!"<p>

If looks could kill, both Flak and Shrapnel would have dropped dead. Instead, the two of them exchanged a quick glance before looking at Moriarty again.

"One more word and I'll have my bouncer throw you out."  
>Flak had a look around. "That won't be necessary", Flak said pleasantly and got up. "We'll just go."<br>Shrapnel lifted his eyebrows, but being as he was sure Flak had a plan, he got up as well. "We'll be seeing you around."  
>Moriarty visibly sagged with relief, only for a second, however. Only until Flak spoke again.<br>"We'll come back tomorrow, though", he said with a friendly smile. "And the day after. We'll come every single fucking night. Until you've got no custom left... or until you come with us."  
>Moriarty gaped and then slowly clenched his fists when he remembered to shut his mouth. "You sick little fucktards."<br>It was clear to everyone that Colin was fuming with fury when the three of them headed for the door, with Tulip snickering gleefully as she hoisted Fred onto her shoulder.  
>Shrapnel grinned. "See you tomorrow, Colin!"<p>

The door closed behind them. Several patrons looked at Moriarty and gave their glasses a suspicious stare. As a measure of desperation as much as the only means he had to calms his never Moriarty picked up one of the glasses that they had left untouched and knocked it back with a shudder.  
>The patrons settled again, but the suspicion remained in their eyes.<br>"Rat-bastards", Moriarty snarled under his breath.

Outside, on the landing before the saloon, Flak exchanged a grin with Shrapnel while Tulip leaned against the railing. They lit up a smoke each and waited.

"Think we need another go?", Shrapnel asked.  
>Flak narrowed his eyes and stared at his smoke. "Don't think so." Then he inhaled deeply, blew a slow cloud and tapped off the ash. "Three."<br>Shrapnel exchanged a grin with Tulip.  
>"Two."<br>Tulip couldn't suppress another snicker.  
>"One."<p>

The door opened. Moriarty shouldered a small bag and gave each of the three a murderous look.

"Welcome aboard, Silvertongue!" Shrapnel beamed at him and slapped his back.  
>"I'll get you for this, you assholes", Moriarty snapped back.<p>

Moriarty's anger ebbed off when he saw the car, and his curiosity won. "The fuck are you up to, anyway?"  
>Flak dropped his butt end and ground it out under the heel of his boot. "We're on a mission from the Chief."<br>"What Chief?"  
>"Chief Harkness", Shrapnel fell in. "We're out to find spare parts."<br>"For what?"  
>"Rivet City's security upgrades", Flak said smoothly. "But we need to travel up north into the Commonwealth."<br>"Commonwealth? You might've mentioned before that this is a suicide mission." Moriarty narrowed his eyes and looked back and forth between the two. "And why's the chick coming along?"  
>"Cause we need more firepower", Flak replied. "That's why we're getting the gang back together."<br>"Who is she anyway?"

Tulip dropped her missile launcher and rested it upright beside her foot, turning it so the writing faced forward. Moriarty looked at the weapon, then paled. When he looked up at Tulip again, his grin was a little weak. "Tulip... Jesus fucking Christ... didn't recognise you for a moment."  
>Tulip took the cigarette out of her mouth between a delicate thumb and forefinger. "Wish I could say the same about your ugly mug, Colin."<br>Moriarty narrowed his eyes, but Flak stepped in between them. "Save your bickering for when we're on the road again and I can't hear it. Colin, you've got any news as to the whereabouts of the others?"  
>Since he was caught up good and proper in this, there was no use in keeping back information as it would only prolong his suffering. Moriarty dug into his memories. "As far as I can remember then there is someone working for Tenpenny with the name of Gustavo. Might be the Fly. Worth checking out, I guess. Got no idea about the others, though."<br>Flak nodded. "We check it out. Next stop, Tenpenny Tower."  
>"Wohoo!" Tulip swung herself onto the bed with a manic grin while Moriarty climbed up after her with a resigned shake of his head.<p>

**{-(-)-}**

The security intercom at Tenpenny tower proved to be a trial. Flak tried several times to gain access, with no success. He came back to the van and grinned at Moriarty.

"This is your big moment, Silvertongue. See if you still got it."  
>Moriarty shot Flak a poisonous glance but made his way towards the intercom. Flak, however, had already pissed the guard off to such high a degree that no matter what Moriarty tried, he couldn't engage in a conversation anymore.<br>"Should've let me handle that from the start", he snarled at Flak when he came back. "Fuckwit's been hanging up on me every time I press the fucking button."  
>The four of them exchanged a worried glance. Shrapnel passed a pack of cigarettes around and they smoked in thoughtful silence for a while. Finally Shrapnel dropped his butt end and walked over to the intercom.<br>"I told you to fuck off", the guard snapped and hung up.  
>Shrapnel cracked his knuckles, pressed the button again and yelled at the top of his lungs into the microphone. "Gustavo, you asshole, I know you're holing up in there! You get your lazy old ass out of there this minute because Flak and Shrapnel are getting the gang back together and don't the fuck you dare tell me you've forgotten how to... Fly!"<br>He leaned back with a satisfied grin.

Flak and Moriarty looked at each other, then at Tulip who shrugged, and then at Shrapnel who walked back towards the van and leaned his back against the driver's door.

A couple of minutes passed and nothing happened. Shrapnel looked a little crestfallen. "Damn."  
>Flak patted his back. "Not your fault, buddy. Let's get on the road again."<p>

They all were about to get into the van again when they heard a thud behind them. They spun around and saw that someone had thrown a bag over the walls surrounding the tower. Moments later, someone wearing a pair of battered cargos swung their legs over the wall, followed by an upper body in a threadbare T-shirt. That someone climbed down, let himself drop down the last two feet and picked up the bag in one smooth motion before heading into their direction in a jog.

"Hey!"  
>Shrapnel felt a grin crack his head in half.<br>"Wait for me!"  
>"Xav!" Shrapnel met him halfway and they both met in a rib-cracking bear-hug. "That's one silly hairstyle you've got there, man!"<br>Gustavo flashed him a sheepish grin. "Got appearances to keep, you know." Shrapnel offered him a smoke which he took gratefully. "Man", he went on. "It's a good life there, with food and water and shit and even a few girls, but I was fucking bored to tears in there."  
>"Not asking where we're going or why?" Shrapnel asked him as Gustavo threw his bag onto the van.<br>"Fuck no. Nice car." He flashed Shrapnel a grin. "As long as I get out of here."  
>Flak slapped his back too and walked around the van to sit on the passenger seat while Gustavo gave Moriarty a nod. "Silvertongue. Didn't think I'd ever see you again. True that you're running a Saloon in Megaton?"<br>"To a degree", Moriarty said coldly. "As you can see, I am presently being dragged through the Wasteland on a stupid suicide mission after being blackmailed into tagging along."  
>Gustavo grinned, then eyed Tulip. When his eyes fell onto the missile launcher his grin became a little strained. "Uhm. Hi, Tulip."<br>Tulip gave him a level stare. "Charmed."  
>Gustavo chuckled nervously and held out a hand. "No hard feelings, eh?"<br>Tulip stared at the hand, but took it after a moment's hesitation. "I guess none of you would be hard for me anymore after all this."  
>Moriarty emitted a choked chortle and looked hastily away while Gustavo blushed a fierce red. Without any more words he jumped onto the bed, followed by Tulip and Moriarty. Shrapnel and Flak both gave Tulip a look, but the ghoul just settled down onto her seat and snipped away her butt end. Flak closed the door behind him with a thud.<p>

Shrapnel folded his arms onto the railing while looking up at Gustavo. "You heard anything about the others?"  
>Gustavo narrowed his eyes. "I heard from caravans that up in Canterbury Commons is a diner run by someone called Joe Porter. Don't know if this is our Joe, but I always kind of hoped it would be. Thought no one of the others would be alive any after all those years."<br>Shrapnel grinned. "We're hard to kill, the whole fucking lot of us. We'll check out that Diner and that Joe."

**{-(-)-}**

The drive up north towards Canterbury Commons at night proved to be a boring, tiring experience and Flak had to keep pinching Shrapnel to keep him from dozing off at the wheel.  
>"How much longer?" the latter asked with a yawn.<br>"Half an hour, probably less", Flak replied. "We're already past... watch out!"  
>Despite his tiredness, Shrapnel had seen the dark shadow speeding out from the rocks lining the old tarmac road, but too late. Even though he stomped his foot down onto the brake there was a thud and a pitiful whine as the animal was sent flying into the air that broke off very abruptly when it landed a few feet away from the car, where it lay still.<p>

The three others on the bed craned their necks to see what was going on.

"Shit." Shrapnel killed the engine and got out. "Shit."  
>Flak followed him and they stared down at the dead animal lying in the stark light of the van's headlamps. "Looks like you mashed some poor fella's dog, Shrap."<br>"Yeah", Shrapnel said unhappily and went down onto one knee beside the massive dog. "That's not your average dog , Flak. It's huge, it's got a collar, so unless..." Tugging on the collar revealed a name tag . "Oh shit."  
>"What?" Flak went down beside him and looked at the tag. "Dogmeat?"<p>

The two exchanged a horrified glance.

"The Vault kid's dog?"  
>Flak nodded, numb with shock.<br>"I killed the Vault kid's dog", Shrapnel said. "Oh for fuck's sake, Flak, let's get the fucking hell out of here."  
>Flak didn't need a second invitation and they both swung themselves into the cabin of the van as fast as they could when they heard the shriek coming from behind the rocks.<br>"Fuck." Flak leaned back into his seat.  
>Shrapnel fiddled with the key, but nothing happened. "Fuck, oh come on baby, come on. Not now!" The car refused to cooperate. "Not now!", Shrapnel snarled, treading various pedals and turning the key.<p>

A figure jumped down from the rocks and ran up to the car. A woman in black leather armour, to be precise.

"My dog!", she howled, the green light of the appliance on her left wrist casting a garish streak of light on her face. Her expression wavered between fury and anguish. "You motherfuckers killed my fucking dog!" She swung a rather large weapon down from her shoulder and loaded an MF cell into it. Finally the car took the hint and the engine sprang to live.  
>Shrapnel hammered the gear into place. "Our Lady of Blessed Acceleration, don't fail me now!", he pressed out between gritted teeth and hit the pedal. The car set off with a howling screech of tyres while the projectile of a gauss Rifle punched a five inch hole into the tarmac where the van had been standing until a second ago.<p>

Shrapnel watched the figure of the Vault girl vanish in the mirror and let out a sigh after wiping his hands dry on his pants.  
>"Fucking hell." He cast a look at his friend who seemed strangely silent. "Flak?"<br>Flak didn't move a muscle in his face. "Can you go any faster?"  
>"Not on this road and not at night."<br>"Hm."

Shrapnel shook his head and looked into the mirror again, but the Vault girl was out of sight. Thank god.


End file.
